


The Magnus Records 037 - Conservation Site

by ErinsWorks



Series: The Magnus Records [18]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: AU: The Entities are nice and the world is awful, Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22656994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinsWorks/pseuds/ErinsWorks
Summary: In a world of burnt forests and Pine Martens, of friendly furniture collectors and mysterious mirrors, perhaps Martin would meat some less unnerving intruders. Perhaps Jason North would find a more benign ritual site. Perhaps Jon would find a blindfold.Here at the Magnus Sanctuary, London, we will find out.Start your interview. Share your hope.
Relationships: (IMPLIED), Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: The Magnus Records [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497773
Comments: 13
Kudos: 49





	The Magnus Records 037 - Conservation Site

**MAG037 – Resident 2099 – “Conservation Site”**

[CLICK]

**KEEPER**

_ (Coughs lightly)  _ So! Martin. Who were you and Rosie just speaking with?

**MARTIN**

_ (Seeming slightly more happy than usual, all things considered)  _ Oh! Well, uhm… Just some old friends.

**KEEPER**

Really?

**MARTIN**

Yeah! Some odd fellows I knew a while back. They had a habit of collecting old furniture. That's why they were here, actually! They came around and asked if we had any uh… 1800s mirrors?

**KEEPER**

I see. And you showed them one, yes? In the attic?

**MARTIN**

Yeah! In the attic. They were just looking, apparently, and they said ours looked in perfect condition. They might be back for it later with some cash! And we hugged our goodbyes, of course-

**KEEPER**

_ (Caught off guard, perhaps a little jealous)  _ I’m sorry,  _ you hugged them? _

**MARTIN**

Well, I mean, it was more like  _ they _ hugged  _ me,  _ but… yeah! They’re my friends.

**KEEPER**

_ (Going along with him)  _ … Right, right of course. Now, if you wouldn't mind my asking, where did you know them from?

**MARTIN**

Oh uhm. Didn't I say so? Well it must've been… Secondary school, I think. Tiverton high.

**KEEPER**

Right. Now, Rosie said she knew them from secondary school as well.

**MARTIN**

Oh, lovely!

… Wait, hang on… Rosie went to C.O.L, didn't she?

**KEEPER**

She did, yes.

Now, can you tell me one specific time you shared lunch with them, or had class with them, or spoke with them at all?

**MARTIN**

I… I… uhm. Wait, hang on, am I in trouble Jon?

**KEEPER**

No. One last question.

Can you tell me their names?

**MARTIN**

… Oh. Oh my god. No, no I can't.

**KEEPER**

You can go have a lie down if you'd like.

**MARTIN**

… I would like that, yes.

[UNSTEADY AND UNCERTAIN FOOTSTEPS. A DOOR PROMPTLY OPENING AND SHUTTING.]

**KEEPER**

Two men who everyone seems to know, but no one knows where from, asking about a mirror in the attic. Furnishing collectors made of Deja Vu. And, most supernaturally of all, they managed to get Martin to hug them while he wasn't crying. I'll mark them down on the list.

_ (Sigh) _

Interview with Jason North, regarding the discovery of a still-standing glade within the burnt remains of Glassloch Forest, Scotland. Interview taken August 6th, 2009. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Record Keeper of The Magnus Sanctuary, London.

Interview begins.

**KEEPER (INTERVIEW)**

Have I told you about my job? I probably haven't, I'm under a couple hundred NDAs with the M.O.B, but I've got the feeling I can share one or two details here without anything big getting out. See, I do damage control in recently burnt-down forests, searching for still-living seeds and animals to sell to well-meaning rich folk. Supposedly it's so they can  _ "give these orphans of nature a home" _ , or some other nonsense like that, but they're pretty obviously all just nature collectors disguising themselves as ecologists. Private zoos displaying newly-rare specimens don't do jack about how the world is burning to the ground. 

_ (Jon coughs again, softly.) _

It's a hard job from an emotional angle, if I'm being honest. Sifting through the ashes of a land that used to be teeming with life, before it all got overlogged, or sun-scorched, or flooded. It really shows you just how much power we have over this planet, and just how badly we use it. Doesn't help that the little guys always look so sad when you ship them off to their new home. I once had a pine marten- that's a kind of wee bear- start wailing for me when I said my goodbyes to it after nursing it back to health. Felt like watching my own son get shipped off. That, and I've seen some pretty hopeless sights. Burnt down cottages. Ashy corpses in the lake. Families of dead animals, huddled in fear of the flames licking at their dens. It's left me pretty hopeless and cynical.

I think that's why I wasn't immediately drawn to the glade when I saw it in February. It was so obvious really, so prominent on the skyline, but I guess my vision just… filtered it out. I blinked at it a bit, and assumed I must have been hallucinating, but... no. There was a ring of still-standing trees, unburned and unfelled, stood on top of the hill. Once I kept my gaze on it for long enough to confirm that  _ yes, it was real, _ I started to approach it. As I got closer, I began to get the sense that I  _ shouldn't be looking into it. _ It wasn't a sinister, fearful sense, just this little voice back in my head that said  _ "Leave it alone. There's nothing to see. There's nothing to find." _

Luckily I've always been the curious sort. And I tend to ignore the little voices in the back of my head.

Once I was within a certain distance of the ring, I could clearly see that there was…  _ something…  _ attached to each of them. Long lines of fabric tied in loops, or simple padlocks, or zippers. I assumed they were nailed in at first, but on closer inspection, it seemed like each was looped around or hung up on broken branches. No harm had come to the trees in the effort to adorn them this way. I was a bit put off, I'll admit, and reached down to grab my water bottle… before remembering that earlier that day I'd accidentally dropped it in the mud, which it sank into a good few inches. The last time I looked at it, it was dirty enough to induce vomiting... and yet, impossibly, the water was completely clear. Stupidly, I took a sip to be sure, and it tasted like  _ pure, perfect, mineral water. _

I looked at my water, then back up at the circle of fabric-looped and padlocked and zippered trees… And I knew somehow, that whatever was inside, protected by this circle of trees, was the reason it hadn't burned down. I had to see it. I  _ had to,  _ and that burning curiosity in my skull dueled the little voice in my head proclaiming the sacredness of the circle to a standstill. Against every instinct I had, I pushed through the branches, and into the clearing inside. And it… it was beautiful. A family of deer munching on some flowers. a family of small bears denning in a cave in the ground, and a pond full of fish. Birds singing and bees buzzing, a piece of the forest kept impossibly preserved by this ring of trees. Nature's perfect conservation site. 

I tried to get a picture of the spot, but every picture I took just came back blurry, or obscured, like the camera was covered by gauze. But I had to get  _ some  _ evidence that the ring of trees was real. Just to prove it to myself. So I ran back outside, reached out, and pulled two of the loops of fabric off of the stick they were wrapped around… and all at once, I felt an all-consuming urge to  _ leave. Leave, leave, leave, go and don't come back, because there's nothing to see, and nothing to find, because some secrets are best considered lies, some lies best kept secrets, some places best left alone.  _ And this time, I couldn't push through. With the fabric kept in a deathgrip in my hand, I bolted from that place, and got into my car. I drove straight here, to my wife, and my son, and I didn't look back once.

I haven’t been back since. I don’t want proof that what I saw was real. I don’t  _ need _ proof that what I saw was real. But, I still have the fabrics, if you want them.

**KEEPER**

Interview ends.

Mister North and the rest of the North family have since left the Sanctuary, and have more recently begun to campaign for public opinion on a conservationist platform. His wife and son are, as far as I can guess, happy with this development, and Mister North himself has highlighted the importance of treating nature’s land as its own, a secret, private place, to be preserved and kept hidden.

_ (Sigh) _

I know that Tim's right. I know there's so much more to find in these pages and pages of supernatural testimony, but I cannot bring myself to pry further than I already have. These are things best kept hidden, secrets best considered lies. 

More importantly, I know what these "loops of fabric" are. I can see the faintest touch of lipstick on one, the two imperceptible clouds of eyeshadow on the other. 

These are a gag, and a blindfold.

End recording.

**Author's Note:**

> ONLY 38, 39, AND 40 LEFT UNTIL THE HIATUS, Y'ALL!!!! AND, WITH THIS, I HAVE COVERED ALL OF THE HOPE ENTITIES IN SOME REGARD OR ANOTHER!!!!
> 
> ... I just... forgot to actually... give the Cult Of The Lightless Flame's equivalent... a Name. Whoops. Well, I'll get around to it.
> 
> Also, before anyone asks, yes, Gertrude is responsible for this site in the Recordsverse as well.
> 
> As always, many thanks to Zyka for the edits, many thanks to you all for the comments to kudos, and LOTS OF LOVE to you dear readers. I couldn't be doing this without ya!!!


End file.
